


Welcome to Rudshore

by cobain_cleopatra



Series: Little Crow Oneshots [1]
Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Dishonored AU, First Meetings, Fluff, Grumpy Daud, M/M, Quiet Corvo, whaler Corvo, younger Corvo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 08:01:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8094361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cobain_cleopatra/pseuds/cobain_cleopatra
Summary: Daud and Whaler Corvo's first meeting.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Set directly after chapter 1 of Little Crow.
> 
> Requested by anon a few weeks ago.

Corvo watched the Captain’s eyes freeze over, empty and lifeless. He removed the sword from his chest, using both hands; the blade was heavy. Blood oozed from the wound, and stained the Captain’s coat and shirt dark crimson. Corvo breathed steadily, feeling strangely at peace. The man – _men_ , he reminded himself as he glanced over the docks – who had caused him nothing but suffering for months had now suffered in kind.

Thanks to the stranger.

Corvo regarded him warily, as he continued to clutch the sword two handed. Cold, grey eyes. A scar running jagged over one of them, and continuing down until it faded at his jaw. There were other scars too, but that one was most prominent. He was perhaps ten years Corvo’s senior, in his late twenties at most.

The stranger was regarding him too, brow furrowed and expression unreadable. Corvo’s starved and scrawny form suddenly felt inadequate to be looked upon by him, and he broke the stranger’s gaze, training his eyes back on the Captain’s corpse.

A _thwrp_ nearby had Corvo’s head snapping back around. Another figure appeared, shadowy specks surrounding him until his body fully materialized. He gave a small salute, a mask obscuring his face. The glassy eyes took in the harbour, focusing on the surviving children huddled together, and then finally on Corvo.

“Master Daud,” he spoke, thick Morley accent muffled by the mask.

“Job’s done, Arden. We’ve been after these bastards for months,” the stranger, Daud, said, voice gruff and tone bitter as he scowled at the pirate bodies littered around. “Looks like they were trading in slave labour.”

“Outsider’s fuckin’ balls,” Arden sighed. He motioned towards the children. “What d’you want done with ‘em?”

Daud scrutinized them. They were shivering and clearly frightened; perhaps they feared these new men were worse than the pirates. Daud raised his left hand slightly, something on the back of his glove flaring blue, and then yellow. Two more figures appeared, both identical to the first in their dark uniforms and masks.

“Akila, Thomas,” Daud greeted. “Have the children checked over for illness or injuries, and then find somewhere safe for them to stay. They don’t belong in Rudshore.”

One of the newcomers went to approach Corvo, but Daud held out an arm to stop him.

“Not this one, Thomas.” His eyes trailed a path from Corvo’s hands to the tip of the sword, still dripping with the Captain’s blood. “He comes with us.”

Corvo watched as the children were carefully rounded up. They were all too shaken to try to run, and the men seemed able to calm them down enough to cooperate.

Night had fallen completely, and now stars were beginning to appear between the clouds. The docks were illuminated in an eerie glow.

Corvo suddenly flinched, backing away when he realised Daud had taken a step closer to him.

Daud held out his hand, signalling to the blade. “If you don’t mind.”

Corvo’s expression become icier, and he grasped the sword tightly.

Daud granted him a withering look. “I see you do mind.” He didn’t attempt to get any closer. “Smart. To want to keep it.”

As the back of his glove blazed again, a green tendril of light wrapped around the blade’s handle and tugged it gently from Corvo’s grasp. Corvo stumbled back, watching with awe as the weapon returned to Daud’s hand.

“But I’m afraid it is mine,” Daud continued, wiping the blade clean on his coat, and then slotting it into the belt at his side. He looked back to Corvo, his expression softening the slightest bit. “I assure you, you don’t need it.”

Corvo remained stubbornly quiet, watching Daud, and the men in the corner of his eye, with unwavering awareness.

Daud shook his head slightly, amused. “You certainly have your wits about you.”

“Boss.” The Morley man approached again and removed his mask, his brown hair shaken free. “I’ve checked the ship. Ain’t no one else on board.” His gaze landed on Corvo. “Him and the others seem to’ve been the only survivors.”

Daud nodded his understanding.

The pair began discussing something in hushed tones, while Corvo kept a vigilant eye on the harbour. He didn’t find himself too anxious for whatever became of the other children. The men who’d disappeared with them seemed to care genuinely for their wellbeing. Corvo had only become close to Violetta during the journey to Dunwall anyway, and he knew she could take care of herself.

In just a ragged shirt and trousers, Corvo felt himself start to shiver. Gristol was a lot colder than Serkonos. He supposed he should be thankful they hadn’t sailed to Tyvia instead.

Arden noticed his discomfort. He shrugged off his coat and held it out, respecting the distance between them. “It’s alright,” he urged, shooting him a small grin. “I ain’t gonna bite.”

Corvo cautiously took it, wrapping it around his shoulders and almost sighing with relief at the warmth it provided. Arden looked to be a few years older than him, eighteen perhaps, and the coat was a little too big considering Corvo had been starving for weeks.

Daud glanced over him. “You’re Serkonan," he observed gruffly. "You’ll get used to the cold, in time.”

On a closer inspection, Corvo noticed Daud’s bearing; there were features there that were Serkonan as well, if you knew what to look for. Strong nose, and slightly bronzed skin, though the colour wasn’t as evident as Corvo’s.

“What’s your name?”

Corvo averted his gaze. He hadn’t spoken aloud for months, he wasn’t certain he’d even be able to anymore. That, and he didn’t feel comfortable enough to voice anything. Corvo had never liked speaking around strangers or when he was upset, it just put him less at ease. Beatrici always used to tease him for his aloof nature.

Daud grunted at his silence. “Food first, perhaps.” He turned to Arden, and motioned for him to follow as he began to walk from the docks. “Bring him. Let’s go home.”

Arden shot Corvo another grin; the sight of it reassured him that he wasn’t in danger. From them, at least. “Come on, pup. Unless you’d rather stay ‘round here.”

Corvo hesitated, taking one final look at the ship, and at the bodies of the men who’d stolen him. Then he turned away, and followed Daud and Arden into Dunwall.

***

The Financial District had been flooded for years, Arden told him on the way. The dam holding the water back had broken due to structural damage, and the citizens had taken to calling the area the Flooded District over time. Corvo didn’t have to guess why. There was deluge everywhere, and the green, slimy tinge to it was nothing like the clear seas Karnaca had to offer.

Still, Corvo found he didn’t mind the sight. Or the smell, for that matter. Anything smelled better than the gallows of that pirate ship. Corvo found, with Arden’s coat draped around his shoulders, he was starting to get used to the chill in the air, just as Daud said he would.

Daud led them along a walkway; makeshift, built with metal planks to create a path high above the flood water. Corvo stared at the large building at the District’s centre. It was white, with a crowned statue of a woman positioned on front. Whoever it was must have been important, Corvo figured, to have their likeness carved to such a large scale.

“There, that’s Chamber of Commerce,” Arden said. “Suppose it was a bank of some sort, once upon a time. When the sea wall broke, folks abandoned the place. Now it’s where we call home.”

Corvo thought of home. The small house he, his father and sister lived in. _Had_ lived in. Cosy fireplace, two bedrooms. A way up to the rooftop that only Corvo knew about, so he could climb up whenever he had wanted to be alone.

“Come.” Daud gestured them both inside, slipping into the Chamber through an open window that was slightly raised above the walkway.

Arden went to help Corvo up, but he hopped inside with no trouble. “Alright then,” the man muttered under his breath.

Corvo noticed Daud smile slightly.

They walked along a dimly lit corridor, and Corvo could see the rubble that had crumbled from the ceilings. Ivy and moss covered some of the corners and cracks in the walls.

Daud swept into the room at the end of the hallway. Corvo peered inside. An open space, crates and shelves scattered around. There were practice dummies, four of them, in the middle of the floor. A man, Morley-born from the look of it; tall, his long dark hair tied back over his shoulders. He was packing what looked like blunted swords into one of the crates.

"Rulfio.”

“Daud.” He glimpsed around, nodding briefly. When he noticed Corvo, he paused his work and left the swords where they were. “Who’s this?”

“We found the pirates,” Daud told him.

“How bad was it?”

“Slave labour. Maybe worse. There were only five survivors.”

“Where are the others?”

“They wouldn’t have lasted here. Akila and Thomas have taken them somewhere else,” Daud said. “They’ll be taken care of until they’re old enough to make their own way.”

Rulfio nodded solemnly.

“Show him where he can get cleaned up,” Daud ordered. “Then bring him to the kitchen. I’ll find Hobson, have some food prepared.” He rubbed one of his shoulders, as though trying to loosen the muscles there. “It’s been a long night.”

“For him most of all, I imagine,” Rulfio said, inspecting Corvo. “Let Mont know he’s here, as well. He looks in alright shape, but he should be checked over once he’s had some rest.”

Daud hummed his agreement. “Arden, with me.” He began to move towards another window, looking as though it led back outside. Corvo felt a rush of dread when the pair began to leave.

He made to follow, panicked. Daud stopped, and looked back at him. Corvo’s eyes were wide as he glanced between him and Rulfio.

“It’s alright,” Daud reassured, a little awkwardly.

“Don’t let Rulfio’s ugly mug put you off,” Arden added, teasing as he shot a grin towards the man.

“Hilarious,” Rulfio glowered.

Daud shook his head at the pair, then softened as he addressed Corvo again. “You won’t be harmed here. You have my word.”

Corvo looked for any sort of deceit in his face, and found none. He watched Daud and Arden leave through the window. Shoulders pulled tight, he glimpsed back across the room at Rulfio. The man’s posture was open, his expression kind. Corvo felt his tension ease slightly at the sight.

“Let’s see what we have. Got some clothes around here, somewhere,” Rulfio said, moving to another crate and rummaging around inside. “Here we are.” He tugged a few things out, spreading the shirt out and holding it outstretched towards Corvo as he narrowed his eyes. “Should fit. Maybe once we get some food in you.”

The mention of food had Corvo’s stomach growling violently. Rulfio gave a chuckle.

“Sounds like agreement to me.” He piled the clothes up and placed them in Corvo’s arms. “Lucky for you, our friend Arden is quite the handyman. Got a few showers set up recently around the Chamber.” Rulfio jerked his head towards the door. “Shall we?”

Corvo followed him into the hallway, Rulfio talking aimlessly as they went. He didn’t seem to expect any kind of input, which Corvo was grateful for. He felt himself beginning to warm to the man, which was disconcerting, considering how long it usually took him to relax around strangers. But Rulfio’s voice was gentle, and his movements were mild enough to slowly ease Corvo into feeling more comfortable.

As they came to a side room, the ‘shower’ Rulfio mentioned was a faucet somehow nailed upside-down to a high wall. Corvo was ushered into the area, and the door was shut behind him. Corvo planted the bundle of clothes down on a chair and then undressed.

He turned on the faucet and stepped under the harsh jet of water that followed. It was cold and stung the flogging scars along his back, but he endured it. The dirt and dried blood from his hair and skin was washed away, disappearing through the drain beneath his feet. It was the first time he’d been clean in months.

He remained under the shower for longer than he needed, and when he finally stepped out, the building felt suddenly warmer in comparison to the water. Corvo grabbed the towel, drying himself off as best he could. The clothes he had been given were nothing special; dark trousers, a plain white shirt. Corvo took an instant liking to the industrial boots.

Rulfio was waiting in the corridor outside; leaned against a wall, humming a tune quietly under his breath. He smiled as he looked Corvo over.

“Outsider’s eyes,” he said. “Who’d have thought there was actually someone under all that mess.”

Corvo averted his gaze, and ran a hand through his damp hair.

“Didn’t mean to make you self-conscious. I promise,” Rulfio chuckled. He began to shepherd Corvo back along the hallway. “With me. Let’s see how Hobson’s faired in the kitchen,” he said as they walked. “Man can’t cook for shit, but it’ll fill you up at least.” Rulfio’s gaze grazed over his thin form with obvious empathy. “Void knows when the last time you ate was.”

Corvo didn’t remember.

Rulfio led him into the kitchen. Some lanterns glowed dimly on the windowsills, and Corvo could see Daud slouched at one of the counters, accompanied by a burly, red haired man who was bustling carelessly around a boiler.

“Hobson, it amazes me that you haven’t managed to burn this place to the ground yet,” Rulfio mused as they approached. “Can’t believe you used to cook for the Pratchett’s.”

Hobson barked a fake laugh. “I’m no less disbelieving that a hagfish like you came from noble blood, Rulfio, believe me,” he scoffed, plating up some food. “You run your mouth worse than Arden some days.”

“I’m charming.”

“You’re a choffer.”

“Enough, you two,” Daud cut in, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Enough, he says, Hobson. Best listen to him,” Rulfio warned with a smile. “We have a guest tonight.”

“So we do.” Hobson peered over the counter at Corvo. He pushed a steaming mug across the surface to him. “Tough if you don’t like coffee, kid. It’s all we got,” he added as Corvo took the cup in both hands. “But it might help warm you up.”

Corvo’s tongue became numb from the heat when he took a gulp. He finished half the drink within seconds. He nodded briefly up at Hobson, as thanks.

“Have a seat if you want,” Rulfio said, picking up the plate of food and handing it to him. “You look dead on your feet.” He placed a hand behind Corvo’s back to direct him to a table, but seemed to know not to touch him.

Corvo took a bite of blood sausage before he’d fully taken a seat. He heard Daud dismiss Rulfio and Hobson, but he was too focused on the food to make out what was being said. When he almost choked from too big a bite, he took another sip of coffee and decided to slow down.

Daud slid into the chair opposite, reclined back with his arms folded. His red coat had been discarded, leaving him in a simple white shirt that almost matched Corvo’s. The fabric stretched visibly over the broadness of his shoulders.

Corvo watched him, still a little wary as he ate. He scowled when the man swiped a slice of bread from his plate. Daud chuckled quietly around his mouthful.

“There’s more if you want it,” he said. “I’ve had a shit day, too. Though,” he added, a little more sombre, “perhaps not as shit as yours.”

Corvo swallowed, taking another drink to ease the food down his throat.

“We’d tracked those pirates all across the Isles,” Daud continued. “We’ve had a contract on them for months. We were waiting for them to dock here again.” He examined Corvo closely, taking him in with barely noticeable admiration. “I knew their reputation well. To have lasted as long as you did on their ship is quite a feat.” His eyes lingered on a scar, trailing up Corvo’s shoulder and peeking out beneath the edge of his shirt.

Corvo folded his collar up to cover it. He went for another drink, before realising he’d finished. Daud nudged his own mug towards him.

This coffee was richer, and left a bitter aftertaste on Corvo’s tongue. He liked it.

“I hope Arden didn’t put you off on the way here,” Daud spoke up after a while. “Man’s vile, but he means well.”

“I’ve met worse.”

Daud raised an eyebrow. “He speaks.” He leaned forward, taking another slice of bread from Corvo’s plate and breaking it in two, taking the smaller half. “Are we ready for that name now?”

His voice was rough from lack of use, but the word came easier than he expected. “Corvo.”

Daud gave a nod, satisfied. He extended his hand across the table. “Welcome to Rudshore, Corvo.”

Hesitantly, Corvo placed his hand in Daud’s. As they shook, he looked at the man who’d saved his life, and devoted himself in that moment.


End file.
